Chapter 17 - Dawn Over the Docks
The sun was just beginning to paint the horizon in streaks of pale gold and bruised purple as Marcus and I walked out onto the concrete of the old industrial docks. The salty Atlantic breeze whipped through my hair, smelling of diesel, rust, and salt.
Marcus handed me a small, encrypted burner phone—the exact twin of the one I had burned a year ago.
"Eleanor has the federal task force securing the remaining warehouses," Marcus said, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "Victor's network has officially ceased to exist. There's no one left on the East Coast who even remembers the old rumors, let alone has the courage to repeat them."
I took the phone, held it over the edge of the concrete pier, and dropped it into the dark, churning water below. It sank without a splash, swallowed entirely by the deep.
"Is it really over this time, boss?" Marcus asked quietly.
"It was over nineteen years ago, Marcus," I replied, turning my collar up against the morning chill. "Some people just needed a reminder of what happens when you wake a sleeping dog."
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I checked my wristwatch. It was 6:45 AM. Lily’s first morning class started at eight, and she liked her coffee with exactly one packet of sugar and a splash of oat milk.
"Let's go home," I said.
